


to be saved

by wearegoingtodie



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Memory Alteration, Mental Health Issues, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, its ranboo so, vent fic AGAIN
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:29:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29811234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wearegoingtodie/pseuds/wearegoingtodie
Summary: went back to physical school today and wrote this in class while ignoring my maths teacher! lmao,,,,,,,,
Kudos: 5





	to be saved

Being dragged from the depths of death was never a comfortable experience. Ranboo had been pulled from the welcoming warmth of death one too many times, had hands reach out to grasp his when all he wanted was the unconsciousness and buzzing, welcoming warm feeling that came as he steadily bled or felt himself sink under wave after wave until his back met the ocean floor.

He was not granted with that mercy. Instead, the universe decided it would be funnier for him to forget his struggles. For him to forget his joys. For him to forget anything but his name and his abilities, and it was a sick joke. For Ranboo, life often felt like a dream. A surreal plane of existence where people floated in and out of mind’s eye and the only steady constant was a hauntingly familiar voice echoing in the back of his head, telling him the sins he should have long forgotten and comforting him in his worst moments.

Regardless of missing memories and lost books, Ranboo always ended up back on top of buildings and bridges, long and thin towers spiking into the air with no clear intention other than immediate and sure death. Sometimes, against his ender instincts, he’d end up on high bridges spanning over thousands of miles of water, the liquid sparkling mockingly under him as he trembled on the railings hundreds of feet in the air.

And regardless of how many times he would end up on those bridges and towers, regardless of how remote or disguised they were, how vague his notes were, he was always found. Warm bodies would surround his and carefully hold him as he blankly stared down, down, down. It was always down. 

(Sometimes, he was glad to be saved.)


End file.
